


This Life Is Mine

by Kablob, mylordshesacactus



Series: Mirror Mirror [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Gen, Mirror Universe, Sith, mentions of torture, mirrorverse crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17175578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kablob/pseuds/Kablob, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylordshesacactus/pseuds/mylordshesacactus
Summary: Ahsoka wasn’t panicking.She wasn’t! She was completely in control of herself and the situation.Here were the facts: Luminara Unduli was on the Council. Anakin was on Naboo with his family. No one was allowed near the excavation site of an ancient Sith artifact except the archaeology team, for security reasons. Also, a mysterious glowing portal just ate Barriss.The day is about to get worse—for all of them.





	This Life Is Mine

Barriss hadn’t even needed to _be_ there, honestly.

It wasn’t as if history or archaeology were her _specialty_ , more of a hobby. Having a healer on hand while excavating an ancient Sith shrine far beneath the Jedi Temple on Coruscant was an excellent precaution, she’d told herself to justify her involvement; she wasn’t _just_ there to satisfy her curiosity. But...well, sometimes your former Master being on the Council came with its perks.

Besides, she’d hardly been useless to the excavation team. _Someone_ had to organize and catalog their findings. Some of the wisest and most learned Jedi of their time could unlock all the mysteries of the Force but couldn’t format a proper spreadsheet.

Her gratitude for the assignment was dwindling by the moment.

On the bright side, she thought grimly, she was reasonably certain she’d discovered the shrine’s purpose.

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and tried to review the facts.

She’d come to her senses inside what appeared to be a storeroom. Following any Jedi’s instincts, she reached into the Force to try to sense her surroundings—and placed her hand on a hot stove _._

Barriss _recoiled,_ the piercing wrongness becoming less intense but the damage already done; the Dark Side was more powerful than she’d felt in her life, even during the war, but somehow that wasn’t the most concerning thing. Everything was...different. She wasn’t in the same place she’d been, and not just in a physical sense.

 _You’re not supposed to be here._ She felt it down to her core. _Leave._

She would like nothing better. Unfortunately, _this_ side of the portal she’d fallen through was frustratingly inert. In the meantime, she had very little choice but to try and see where she was. Maybe there were Jedi in this...place, who could help her.

Barriss couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, but even if she’d known where a light switch was she wasn’t about to turn anything on. After feeling around for a few minutes she was at least confident that she wasn’t at risk of tripping over anything; whoever had arranged this system had kept it meticulously neat. Given what had happened the _last_ time she touched a mysterious artifact, she made sure not to let her hands brush anything while she navigated through the room.

The door was locked, naturally. Bracing herself for the flood of cold hostility, she reached for the Force enough to nudge the locking mechanism open and stepped out into a sparse, utilitarian hallway.

It was the kind of place that _should_ have had sickly, flickering track lighting, and the fact that the motion-activated lights snapped on instantly and were both high quality and a warm yellow that was gentle on the eyes somehow felt even more eerie. Featureless duracrete walls on both sides, bare except for an off-white coat of paint; there was another thick durasteel door set into the wall across the hallway, but otherwise it was completely barren.

Considering the acoustics of a long, narrow expanse of nothing but hard surfaces, her shoes made surprisingly little noise as she hurried toward one end of the hall; the flooring was made of some sort of strange porous material that absorbed the sound. The nervous clicks still felt too loud.

Once she got back to the Temple, she thought fervently, she owed Ahsoka and her insistence that any wise Jedi would wear nothing but combat boots several apologies and a drink.

At the end of the hall there was a turn; she followed it to the right until it deposited her in front of another sealed door. This one, too, looked locked, but when she experimentally pressed her thumb over the deactivation switch the particle barrier quietly dissolved and the doors slid open.

There didn’t seem to be any issue; but silent alarms _did_ exist, and Ahsoka was the one with a talent for hotwiring and mechanical systems. Barriss would need to hurry. The doors hissed closed at her back as she stepped through them, and she immediately made a face. She’d found a turbolift.

No good. Too many unknown variables. She could, perhaps, try climbing up the shaft...but there was no visible emergency hatch, and she’d prefer to at least explore other options before she started slicing holes in the architecture. Someone really was bound to notice _that_.

Praying she hadn’t just locked herself in, Barriss pressed the door-open switch. There was an obedient pneumatic hiss, and she nearly screamed.

Ahsoka was standing right in front of her, a look of faint surprise on her face, only…

It wasn’t Ahsoka.

“Nice to see you too,” Not-Ahsoka said with a wry half-grin, giving Barriss a quick up and down look with eyes that shone a bright gold. “What’re you doing down here?”

“I...I could ask you the same question.” Barriss’ mouth was dry, and her mind was racing far ahead of her ability to put words together. She’d been trained by a tactical and strategic genius; she knew how to recognize patterns, and she did not like the image she was beginning to piece together.

She’d done her best to match... _Ahsoka’s_ ...light, unconcerned tone. Until she knew more, until she had some kind of information as to who she might be to this person who clearly recognized her, she had to be wary of seeing too _many_ patterns. A wrong assumption here would be a death sentence.

“Thought it was weird that the lights were on,” ‘Ahsoka’ said with a shrug that set off alarm bells in the back of Barriss’ mind. It was a languid, careless gesture—and it didn’t at all match the unblinking intensity in her eyes.

“I see,” she said. It was the safest response she could think of.

Ahsoka just looked at her for a moment before quirking an eyebrow. Her lips twitched.

“You, uh,” she said. “You gonna let me in, or…?”

“Oh!” Barriss said, not exactly finding it hard to appear flustered. “My apologies, I’m feeling a bit scatterbrained at the moment.” She stepped to the side to let Ahsoka in, even though being alone in a confined space with this Ahsoka was the _last_ thing she wanted.

Ahsoka stepped in, though once the doors closed she made no move to touch the controls. “I hear you,” she said, leaning against a wall and just happening to place herself between Barriss and the control panel. “You’ve been _really_ busy lately. Feeling a little stressed?”

Barriss tried not to seize on the excuse _too_ eagerly.

“Yes,” she said. “Exactly. I suppose I’m just...distracted, by my current research project.” Mentally, she kicked herself and hissed a string of Huttese words she’d learned when her Ahsoka, the real one, had dropped a spanner on her own foot. She’d _never_ been any good at improvisation, but she knew better than to reference details she hadn’t thought of yet.

Ahsoka smiled, looking pleasantly surprised. “No kidding! I didn’t know you had a new one.” Barriss barely managed not to flinch as Ahsoka casually reached out to brush a stray lock of hair back under her mantle. Her touch lingered, running along Barriss’ arm and circling her wrist. “You’ll have to tell me about it.”

Barriss swallowed, her mind screaming. “Oh, um...”

Before she could continue, Ahsoka placed a finger over her lips. “Later,” she said. She gave Barriss another once-over, a bit more slowly this time, then grinned and stepped forward, resting her hands gently on Barriss’s waist. “First, I think you need to _relax_ a little.” Her hands and voice dipped lower in unison as she murmured, “I’ve got some promises to keep about what I can do for you in this lift...”

Oh.

Oh this had, somehow, gotten worse.

The worst part—well, there were several worst parts, she thought with mild hysteria as Ahsoka’s hands ran lazily up her sides—but the _worst_ part from a purely survival standpoint was that she couldn’t even be certain what reaction this Ahsoka was _expecting,_ let alone try to replicate it. All she did know for a fact was that with every heartbeat she failed to do _something_ she was further from even a chance at guessing correctly.

 _Well_ , Barriss thought. _A Sith has to respect audacity, at least._ She smiled, pushed herself up on her toes, and kissed Ahsoka on the mouth.

If she’d taken time to think about that before she did it, it would have occurred to her that she had no idea how kissing actually worked. Ahsoka, on the other hand, seemed _plenty_ experienced with it, and returned it with enthusiasm. As Ahsoka slid a hand up under Barriss’ shirt, Barriss wondered if the Sith was distracted enough not to notice if she went for her lightsaber—

“Nice try,” Ahsoka breathed against her mouth. Before Barriss even had time to freeze, the other hand was gone from her waist and a too-familiar blue saber blade had already ignited across her throat.

There was a pleasant _ding_ as the doors opened again.

“...Ahsoka,” Barriss heard her own voice say after a moment. “On a scale from one to ten, how upset should I be with you right now?”

* * *

Ahsoka wasn’t panicking.

She wasn’t! She was completely in control of herself and the situation.

She fought back a laugh that was a little too wild to be completely safe, and took a deep breath. _Focus, Snips._ This was no time to lose her head.

All right. Time to go.

She ran one final check of her supplies. Rebreather. Full canteen. The GAR days were in the past, but she’d managed to scrounge up two weeks’ worth of military rations. Rolls of cash, half in Republic credits and half she’d convinced the covert ops droids to convert into compressed spice tabs for her. If she had more time she’d have had them synthesize up a few different sets of false ID papers; as it was, she’d have to make do.

She stuffed everything carefully into her knapsack under two full sets of clothing, wrapped in tight balls the way Rex had drilled her in as a kid. The last thing to go in was a plasteel canister filled with water purification tablets, because she knew better than to go into unknown territory without them.

Then she placed her comlink on the bed, slipped out of her quarters, and locked the door behind her.

It felt kind of weird, actually, doing this alone. A few years ago, before Anakin had left the Order, if she was doing something this crazy he’d _definitely_ have been involved somewhere. She’d almost considered inviting him, but this time of year with the Senate out of session he’d be on Naboo. And she couldn’t afford to wait.

A few years ago, she thought as she crept agonizingly slowly through the Temple, ducking behind pillars and occasionally leaping into the corners of vaulted ceilings to avoid being spotted, this would have been a _lot_ easier. Nobody in their right mind would _want_ to be fourteen again, but times like this sure did make her miss being a Padawan. There was a lot to be said for being small enough that you could wriggle through air vents.

Once she’d gotten below the Temple, it was a little easier. There were more shadows, fewer long stretches without cover. Unfortunately, the Sith excavation site was under pretty heavy guard since it had recently, you know. Eaten someone.

She found the best vantage point she could manage, peeking out from behind a crumbling column a few levels up from the site. The Guard presence had doubled, at least; the floodlights the dig crew was using were at full power, and she swore under her breath when she saw the sheets of white plastoid canvas they’d strung up around the site to keep onlookers out.

Onlookers named Ahsoka Tano, for example, who was trying very hard to case the site. She couldn’t even tell if the “portal,” whatever that meant, was still active. Nobody seemed to know what exactly had even happened to Barriss, or at least nobody who knew anything had told her.

Breaking into this thing was always going to be hard, she thought, but...well, she was just going to have to wing this one. Nothing else for it.

“Enjoying the evening, Ahsoka?” Luminara asked mildly.

Ahsoka jumped so badly she almost fell off the scaffolding.

 _“Aaah!_ I mean,” she said quickly. "Hi...Master Unduli.”

Luminara raised a single eyebrow.

“I was just, um,” said Ahsoka. She didn’t actually bother trying to think of an excuse. Sometimes a girl just had to admit when she was totally and completely screwed.

“Mmmm.” Somehow, despite the still-strange fact that Ahsoka was now taller than her, Luminara managed to look down at her. “Come along.”

Ahsoka winced. “Look, Master, I know it’s dangerous, but we can’t just—”

“Ahsoka,” Luminara interrupted her. “I’m sure you have a very convincing argument prepared, but while I don't wish to malign Master Jinn's impressive legacy, it is, occasionally, easier to get things done under the Council's nose if you first acquire their permission.”

Ahsoka blinked and, for the first time, noticed Luminara had her own knapsack.

“Oh,” she said. “We’re doing the same thing.”

“I’m certain I don’t know what you mean,” replied Luminara. “I believe you were merely a young Knight out for a late-night walk when I requested you accompany me as backup in light of your impressive combat record and survival skills training.”

Ahsoka thought about this for a moment before nodding quickly.

“Yup,” she said. “Because, ha, otherwise I’d be breaking like seventeen rules even being here.”

“Indeed. We _are_ operating under a schedule, Ahsoka, so do keep up, please?”

Ahsoka jumped and hurried into a jog at Luminara’s heels. “So you actually convinced the Council to send you through?”

“I wish to make the parameters of this mission very clear,” said Luminara, as if she hadn’t spoken. “I respect your judgement and your skill with a lightsaber, and I am aware you have experienced occasional prophetic visions in the past. I do not intend to ignore your input. However, if I am going to bring you with me into a hostile environment, you _are_ under my authority. When I give you a direct order, I need to know that it will be followed, if not without question then without hesitation. If you cannot accept this, tell me so now.”

Ahsoka hesitated for several long seconds.

“...Okay,” she said. “All right. I can do that.”

Luminara spared her a tight smile as they reached the bottom of the scaffolding and approached the ring of Temple Guards. The two standing at either side of a long slit in the screening fabric stood to attention; a third removed his helmet and stepped forward to greet them.

“Does he ever _sleep?”_ Ahsoka muttered. Luminara shushed her with a look.

“Master Drallig!” Luminara called. “What a pleasure to see you. At this hour.”

Cin Drallig bowed. “The pleasure is all mine. Is there something we can help you with, Master Unduli? The last I heard, the Council’s decision was to cordon this area off until further discussion could be had regarding the dangers.”

“You heard correctly.” Luminara inclined her head politely. “I wished to examine the area myself so as to gain a better understanding of the situation before tomorrow’s session.”

“Understandable,” Master Drallig said, before turning to Ahsoka. “And you, Knight Tano?”

“I’m helping,” Ahsoka said quickly. “Uh...me and Master Skywalker ran into some weird Sith stuff a few times so we thought I might recognize something.”

“Master Skywalker and I,” Luminara corrected calmly, then bowed to Master Drallig. “My thanks. We shall call if we require any assistance.”

Master Drallig bowed them through the tent flap, and Ahsoka let out a long sigh of relief.

“I’m glad that worked,” she said under her breath. “So what are we looking...oh.”

“Quite.” Luminara’s voice was bleak.

The Sith portal was probably, Ahsoka figured, that glowing blood-red maelstrom in the wall.

* * *

Barriss stumbled as the bruising grip on her arm was finally released, almost tripping over her own feet with the force of Not-Ahsoka’s shove. The red bars of a particle field flickered into place as she turned to face her captors.

One of which was herself.

It was apparently, as the real Ahsoka was fond of saying, going to be one of _those_ days.

“If this is some kind of elaborate metaphorical vision,” she snapped, “It’s in very poor taste.”

The _other_ Barriss was staring at her intently, hands clasped behind her back. It was somehow even more disturbing that her eyes remained blue than if they’d matched Ahsoka’s clearly-corrupted gold.

“It’s a _very_ good copy,” the other Barriss said quietly, almost to herself. “You aren’t a changeling, that much is obvious. The timeframe to reach this level of maturation is wrong for a clone, even with Kaminoan technology... You’re lucky you found the warehouse turbolift. There’s nothing but a thumbprint scan protecting it, which you of course could bypass. If you’d tried the main lift you’d still be trapped there. Would you care to explain who you are, how you snuck in here without my knowledge, and who sent you?”

Barriss drew herself up. “Jedi Knight Barriss Offee,” she said formally. “At your service, I’m sure. I was sent here by accident, if this isn’t a Force vision of some description.”

Ahsoka laughed briefly. “The Jedi are supposed to be extinct, but somehow that’s the _least_ ridiculous thing you just said.”

“I am telling the truth.” It came out sounding weak, a little pathetic; but what else was Barriss meant to say? “In the world I came from it’s the Sith who were believed to have been eradicated, so I don’t know why my existence should be any more ridiculous than yours. If you feel me in the Force, I’m sure I feel as _wrong_ to you as everything here does to me. I want to know how this happened as much as anyone.”

“She’s good,” Ahsoka commented to Barriss’ counterpart, as if they were completely alone.

The other Barriss glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. There was humor in her voice, but also a hint of sharpness. “So good you couldn’t tell the difference?”

“Just seeing how deep the differences went,” Ahsoka replied innocently. “I was wondering how long she’d try to keep the act up.” She gave a wolfish grin and slid an arm around her Barriss’ waist, nipping briefly at her neck. “I bet I can make it up to you.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” the other Barriss murmured.

“I’m _right here,”_ Barriss pointed out.

“Exactly. No one here but you and me.” When Barriss glared, Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “What, you expect me to believe you don’t let me tease you a bit back in your...reality, or whatever?”

Barriss took a step back from the energy bars. “I— _what?_ No! Ahsoka is—is a dear friend, I would _never_ —I mean, we don’t— _”_

Her counterpart held up a hand to stall Ahsoka’s response. “If we could return to the more pressing issue,” she said. Then, hypocritically, she smirked. “I hope you realize you _blushed_ when you said that.”

Ahsoka winked at her. Barriss, ears hot with humiliation, tried to ignore it.

The other Barriss almost seemed to have lost interest; she was turning Barriss’ lightsaber over in her gloved hands, occasionally tracing a fingertip over some detail or near-invisible seam. Barriss tried to control her instinctive revulsion. There is no passion, there is serenity, but she very badly wanted this woman to _stop touching her lightsaber._

“There are similarities,” the Sith finally concluded, lifting one of the paired sabers from her belt and holding it side by side with Barriss’ own. She turned to show Ahsoka the comparison. “I don’t know that I can say for certain they’re more than coincidences, however. The emitter shape, the placement of the regulators...”

“Same pommel,” Ahsoka observed. “I noticed that when I was doing the patdown.”

“You didn’t give me—” Barriss began, then stopped. She had, abruptly, restructured the memory of her... _introduction_ to Ahsoka’s twin. Firm pressure up and down her sides, along both arms and at her hips, over her back and thighs, and using the distraction Barriss herself had provided with a kiss to run a thumb under her waistband—and she’d _fallen_ for it.

The brief glance Ahsoka flicked in her direction was smug, before she returned her attention to the Sith. “Yours is weighted, though. Anything else is just aesthetic.”

“The appearance of deadly functionality without the resolve to carry through?” Other Barriss said approvingly. “That certainly fits. You always did have a poetic streak.”

“Will you _please_ put it down now?” Barriss said between her teeth.

Her counterpart raised her eyebrows. “Is there a reason why I should?” she asked coolly. _“You_ won’t be needing it.”

“I’ve already told you!” said Barriss. “I can’t _possibly_ be a spy, I don’t even know for certain how I activated the portal that brought me here. I certainly don’t want to _stay.”_

“That may be true,” said the other Barriss. “But even if I take on faith that you’re not a spy, you are still a Jedi, here, at the heart of my power. Do you think I won’t act to neutralize a threat, just because it wears my face?”

Barriss swallowed with difficulty. She was keeping herself shielded from the Force, as best she could; she didn’t want to expose herself to a universe where the Force itself felt scabbed and torn, a blood-soaked alien thing. But she could still feel the ice coalescing around her counterpart.

Somehow, it hadn’t quite struck her before now that this version of herself was a true Sith Lord. She hadn’t quite wrapped her head around the reality of what that meant.

“I don’t know what I think.” She spoke slowly, carefully. “I’m still not even certain this is anything more than a nightmare.”

Her counterpart’s expression didn’t change.

“Ahsoka,” she said softly.

Barriss had time to frown in confusion before the branching, white-hot bolt of lightning struck her in the chest.

It was an endless moment of mindless agony; and then it was over and she found herself curled on the floor, a scream she hadn’t heard herself give echoing off the durasteel walls, leaving her throat feeling torn and raw. In a tiny, academic corner of her mind, barely functioning as she gasped for air through the searing pain, she realized she’d just been shown mercy. A single flickering bolt was not the sustained torment the histories, and the war accounts of encounters with the last of the modern Sith, spoke of.

She still trembled as she got to her knees. The knowledge that there could be far worse to come was not a comfort. And the clinical, unaffected look her attacker had fixed her with only, somehow, made it worse. It would almost have been kinder to be tortured by her own hand. _Ahsoka_...if there had been one thing she believed without hesitation, it was that Ahsoka would never hurt her.

Her own cool eyes watched her struggle off the floor.

“Is this real to you now, Jedi?” asked the other Barriss, low and dangerous.

“I don’t—I don’t know anything that could be valuable to you,” she rasped. “All of my knowledge is of another universe entirely!”

“You might know more than you think,” said Ahsoka.

“For example,” her counterpart said, never looking away from Barriss’ face as a calculating expression entered her eyes. “You know about a way to travel between worlds.”

* * *

“How many security cameras does this place _have?”_ Ahsoka whispered, pressing against the duracrete wall.

“Too many,” Luminara answered honestly, waving her back from the stairwell.

“Well,” Ahsoka said, looking down at her bag. “If we can find a terminal that’ll patch us into the security network, I _might_ be able to do something to help. Hopefully slicing works the same in this...place.”

That was no small ‘if’. For all that this facility seemed to contain nothing but historical archives and stores of Force-touched artifacts, it was designed like a fortress. They had found no windows to escape through, no air vents large enough for anything but a mouse droid, and computer terminals that ran on a closed network containing only the index of the facility—not even a floor map, let alone a detailed security interface.

It made perfect sense, of course—there was simply no reason why a warehouse terminal _should_ be connected to any system containing sensitive information. Frustratingly logical, and infuriatingly effective. The only thing they had learned was that wherever they were, it had comparable technology to Coruscant and was not so far removed that its computer systems used a language other than Basic.

Small blessings, perhaps, but better than nothing.

Ahsoka stopped at the floor terminal. The odds were poor that it was different from any of the others they’d tried, but Luminara didn’t stop her from activating it and clicking through menu options. Thoroughness in this instance was unlikely to hurt them too badly.

Ahsoka sighed. “Same as the others,” she reported. “There’s an option to access the security cameras, but it’s behind some serious protections.” Luminara stepped up beside her as Ahsoka brought up the display to point out the option. “I don’t know any of this system’s command prompts. Even if I did, that whole partition’s voiceprint activated and—”

 _Voiceprint activate,_ the computer responded coolly. _Confirmed: Ahsoka Tano._

They stared at it.

“Okay,” said Ahsoka. “That’s weird.” She scanned the new menu. “I’ve got top-level clearance, apparently.”

Luminara raised an eyebrow. “Can you shut off the security cameras?”

“Hold on,” Ahsoka said, navigating through more options. “Yep, I can access—oh _wow,_ this place is huge.”

Her fingers flew over the control panel. “Okay, I’m setting the cameras on the archive and warehouse levels to record for ten seconds, then I’ll do twenty-three, then...pick a number between one and thirty?”

“Seven,” she said. “Why?”

“Anakin,” Ahsoka replied by way of answer. “If you’re gonna set security cameras on a loop, set them to loop a few different versions of the same empty hallway at random just in case, if you can. That way if there’s something like...a bird, or a shadow or a blinking light, nobody can time it to realize it’s looping in a set pattern.”

“Your master was nothing if not creative,” admitted Luminara.

“And...done. Building schematics?”

If Luminara were being honest with herself, the level of control Ahsoka seemed to have of this system was...worrying. For all they had known coming through the portal, they were preparing to step into an ancient Sith temple, or some ancestral Sith world out in Wild Space. The eerily familiar technology, the wrongness and hostility of the Force, the near-total absence of the Light...and now this.

There had been ancient, faded inscriptions in the Old Tongue of Moraband surrounding the portal they’d entered; scholars and linguists from the Temple had presented several possible interpretations of the carvings. Luminara Unduli was beginning to suspect she knew which had been correct, and the thought filled her with something dangerously close to dread.

But that would not be a helpful observation right now. Ahsoka’s ability to access this system was a tool, and if they were going to locate Barriss and leave quickly they would have to use all the tools at their disposal.

“If you can download them to a datapad,” she said, “that would be ideal.”

“Right.” Ahsoka fished a datapad out of her supplies and plugged it in. “That should only take a few—”

Her voice cut off abruptly.

“Is there a problem?” Luminara tried very hard to keep the trepidation out of her voice.

Wordlessly—seemingly unable to speak—Ahsoka transferred the schematics onto the terminal’s display screen.

The first page was a full-length blueprint overview. It displayed a tall tower of black-plated reinforced duracrete, ray- and particle-shielded and bristling with sensors and automated laser cannons. The corners were rounded, an ancient technique to avoid creating weak points that an enemy bombardment could expose, and in the entire smooth exterior there were windows only in a few rare locations. Above the image was a notation with a Coruscanti address—latitude, longitude, level range.

All of which was pertinent information, and none of which Luminara paid any attention to whatsoever, because the blueprint was titled. And the title read _Offee Tower_.

“Well,” Luminara said, her throat suddenly dry. “That complicates things.”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka said, a hint of nervous laughter in her voice. “We’re trying to infiltrate a security system designed by _Barriss.”_

Luminara clicked her way through various detail sections of the blueprints. “Oh,” she said. “I’m afraid it’s much worse than that.”

“I don’t think it can be worse than that, Master Unduli, no offense."

Shaking her head, Luminara tapped a finger on the display screen. “The exterior has a checkerboard pattern of durocrete and ferrocrete to take advantage of the benefits of both, strengthened with tempered durasteel and plated with scanner-resistant nutorium alloy. And if I’m correct in assuming this section is the residency…” She opened another document. _“That_ is nearly twenty feet of solid reinforced durasteel surrounding it, with a cortosis-weave shell. And this is only what I can tell at a glance. What we are attempting to infiltrate is a security system designed by Barriss with nearly unlimited resources.”

There was a long pause.

“So,” said Ahsoka. “Should we just surrender now, or should we try that staircase since we’re dead anyway?”

Despite the ice in her veins, Luminara’s lips twitched. Obi-Wan’s lineage all seemed to have inherited his gallows humor, at least.

“I’m no longer certain that will be our best option,” she said, indicating the relevant section of the building schematic. “The only way in or out of this section short of tunneling through the permacrete around it is via the turbolift shaft. If Barriss designed this system, we may need to proceed under the assumption that our presence has already been discovered. Unless you have a better idea, I would suggest—”

A sharp gasp from nearby indicated that assumption was probably correct. They both whirled to see another Mirialan woman in a simple grey tunic that could have been a uniform, looking at Ahsoka with mild surprise.

“Lady Tano, my apologies,” the woman said quickly, “I didn’t expect to see you down...”

Her gaze flickered to Luminara, and she _froze._

Ahsoka, thank the Force, had always had a skill for improvisation if not acting. “Don’t worry about it,” she said with gratingly false cheerfulness. “We were just…”

She glanced helplessly at Luminara, who quickly took the reins.

“We became somewhat sidetracked,” she inserted as smoothly as she could. “Perhaps you could be so kind as to—”

The woman dropped to the ground like her knees had been cut out from under her; the movement was so sudden and violent that Ahsoka had half-drawn her lightsaber before she realized it wasn’t an attack.

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” the woman gasped, wild terror flooding the Force. “We thought—we were told—I beg your forgiveness, I _swear_ I would never betray you!”

“Master…?” Ahsoka said nervously. Luminara gestured her quiet.

“I...see,” she said, as neutrally as she could manage. “Perhaps you could tell me—”

The cowering Mirialan gave a low, miserable cry.

“Please,” she sobbed. “Please, Mistress, we never had a choice! She told us you were dead and—we believed her, I know we shouldn’t have, I know it was a weakness but we couldn’t question her, I beg you to understand that, we couldn’t _say_ it was ridiculous to think she could stand against you! I know better than to—I would never question my superiors, I know where my loyalties lie, Mistress, tell me _anything_ — _”_

“Please stop,” Luminara blurted, unable to think of anything less awkward. The woman cut herself off mid-sentence so quickly she choked.

For a few seconds, there was silence.

“Um,” said Ahsoka. “You can...you can get up.”

The woman didn’t move, except for her violent trembling.

“Ahsoka speaks for me,” Luminara said quietly. Very slowly, flinching at miniscule movements Luminara hadn’t even realized she was making, the woman got to her feet. She glanced between Luminara and Ahsoka, looking wary and somewhat alarmed, but said nothing.

“Is something the matter?” Luminara asked her.

It was difficult for Mirialans to go white with fear, but somehow the woman managed it, and Luminara struggled not to wince. She’d _tried_ to phrase the question gently, but…

 _“No!”_ the woman yelped. Then, slightly more dignified. “I—I apologize, Mistress. I meant no disrespect. I...am glad to see Lady Tano cooperating with you. It struck me as unusual but I’m certain there are many things it’s not my place to know.”

Luminara and Ahsoka exchanged a brief look. _That_ could develop into a problem.

Delicacy and soft phrasing hadn’t worked; perhaps directness was called for. “Can you tell me where Barriss is?”

“On the prison level, Mistress,” the woman answered promptly, looking unspeakably relieved to have some service she could provide. “She’s been interrogating a prisoner for the last few hours.”

Luminara could not entirely contain her wince this time. Behind her, she heard Ahsoka whisper _kriff_ under her breath. “That will be all,” Luminara said. “You may continue as if you did not see us.”

“Yes Mistress, of course,” the woman said, backing away. “I look forward to your resuming control.” With that, she turned and fled.

Once she was gone, Ahsoka turned to Luminara. “So uh, that was...interesting.”

“Indeed,” Luminara said. “I’m beginning to suspect that I’ve been murdered.”

Before either of them could process that information further, a PA system chimed.

 _“To my pair of rather_ unusual _uninvited guests,”_ Barriss’s voice echoed down the hallway. _“If you would join me in my receiving room immediately, I assure you I am a more gracious host than my facility blueprints. The turbolift security will deactivate when you arrive there. I respectfully suggest you do so quickly. The explosive nanodroids I’ve flooded that hallway with will detonate in the next two minutes.”_ There was a brief pause. _“That will be all.”_

The hair on the back of Luminara’s neck prickled. She could pick Barriss’ voice out of a crowd of thousands; the woman had been her Padawan, Luminara had as good as raised her. This was...not Barriss’ voice. Not really. There was too much _cold_ behind it.

Ahsoka let out a shaky sigh.

“New plan, Master,” she said. “I think we should maybe try the turbolift.”

* * *

“Breathe,” Ahsoka murmured.

Barriss’ grip on the arm of her chair, already vicelike, tightened convulsively. That was impressive, frankly; in a few seconds they would probably learn whether it was possible to dig your fingertips straight through blastproof duralium-reinforced steel.

“The terminal they accessed was on level nine,” Barriss said rather than acknowledge her. “But several of the security cameras on stairwells connecting the lower levels have been destroyed, so my guess would place them at level eleven on arrival…” She navigated rapidly through security footage on the holodisplay in front of her. “Yes. Archive warehouse 11A. I’ll have Riyo look through that manifest for anything that might be related to interdimensional travel…”

“Yeah.” Ahsoka reached down gently, took Barriss’ wrist and pried it off her armrest. “I was there when she called. Breathe.”

“I’m fine, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka grimaced. She’d heard _that_ one before. “Look,” she said. “If these two are anything like that Barriss we’ve got, then they’ll be pushovers.”

Ahsoka didn’t actually feel much conviction in that. The Jedi had told them remarkably little, no matter how _creative_ Barriss had gotten.

“Oh,” Barriss said flatly. “I never thought I’d see the day where you thought so little of yourself.”

A silent warning light flashed once over the door, indicating that their guests had reached the corridor outside. Ahsoka reached down in the handful of seconds they still had and squeezed Barriss’ hand, before moving back to a position half a step behind her. Anakin had never stood much on formality; but she was still a Sith apprentice. She knew how to make this look good. Like hell was she going to risk undermining Barriss’ authority right now.

“She can’t hurt me,” Barriss said quietly, nearly to herself.

Ahsoka gave a low growl. “Not while I’m here she can’t.”

There was a grinding sound and an echoing reverberation as the old-fashioned geometric lock system disengaged, and the doors swung open.

The... _other_ Ahsoka let Unduli take the lead, but Ahsoka couldn’t feel more than brief, grim satisfaction at how wary they both looked. It made her skin crawl, watching someone who looked so similar trailing obediently in Luminara Unduli’s wake, looking to her for direction. Like she took orders from her. Like she _trusted_ her.

Behind her back, she gripped her own wrist so hard her nails drew blood.

* * *

Ahsoka had been expecting something a bit more ostentatious.

It wasn’t like she had a _whole_ lot of experience with Sith lairs of evil, but...still. She’d been expecting ten-story double doors and a few kilometers of obsidian columns. Some lava, at least. Maybe a few tortured enemies chained to the walls.

Instead, the room that their security droid escort ushered them into seemed more like some kind of formal sitting room. Elegant sconces glowed every few feet along the mosaic walls of the long, narrow room. There wasn’t even a giant carved throne on a raised dais, just a dark leather armchair with a handful of ottoman seats arrayed before it. Not to say that the setup was spartan, everything here must have cost a fortune, but it was...understated. Tasteful. Exactly the kind of setup that Ahsoka would expect from Barriss, if she were evil and made of money.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t examine the walls forever.

Ahsoka managed not to wince as she looked at their...host, but just barely. She felt Luminara’s breathing stutter beside her.

The awful thing was that at first glance, this version of Barriss didn’t look that different. Back home Luminara’s lineage had always preferred traditional Mirialan clothing, and that meant...well, the same kind of dark, layered clothing that seemed to attract Sith like flies on a bantha. It was just a bit harsher and more strictly utilitarian than what _her_ Barriss usually wore, but they definitely had the same sense of style.

The woman sitting in the room’s only backed chair _was_ Barriss, only reflected through some kind of twisted mirror, and somehow that was even creepier than if she’d been obviously different.

She was staring at Ahsoka in a way that made her feel rather like an insect under a microscope, and she could feel that gaze matched in the Force as a solidly-controlled but altogether _sinister_ presence probed at her. Ahsoka was so focused on not flinching under that gaze that it took her a moment to realize that... _Barriss_...was focused entirely on her.

Uneasy with the unblinking attention, she sidled closer to Luminara. A slight flicker of motion caught her eye, and she missed a step and almost fell flat on her face on the mosaic floor.

Not Actually Barriss was ignoring Luminara so hard it had to be intentional; and Ahsoka had been so focused on _her_ that she hadn’t noticed…

Another Ahsoka was glaring at her from just beside Creepy Evil Barriss’ throne. Off to the side, slightly farther back, hands folded behind her. It was a pose Ahsoka knew well, and _that_ was weird. Was she Barriss’ _apprentice_ over here?

Some of Ahsoka’s reaction must have shown, because the corner of her counterpart’s mouth lifted slightly. Ahsoka looked away; even this Barriss was a less disturbing sight than her own face staring back at her with those bloodshot yellow eyes.

Ahsoka’s instinct, frankly, was to stop a good safe distance away. Unfortunately Luminara continued until they were standing just before the broken semicircle of seating cushions.

There was a long, unbroken silence. It didn’t seem like Luminara wanted to speak first; Ahsoka wondered if this was some protocol thing she didn’t understand, or if, like her, Luminara just had no idea what to say.

Barriss—not Barriss, _Darth_ Barriss, that worked—didn’t move a muscle; but just when the tension in the Force was becoming physically painful, she said, coldly and with absolutely no inflection, “What do you want.”

For a moment, Ahsoka didn’t think Luminara was going to be able to answer; but she should have known better.

“Information on an associate,” she said, as even and emotionless as Darth Barriss but not half as chilly. “If you have it.”

Darth Barriss’ eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch. “What associate would that be?”

“Got a mirror?” Ahsoka muttered. She hadn’t missed that while this Barriss had responded to Luminara, she still wouldn’t look at her. She didn’t understand _why,_ but she hadn’t missed it.

“I would provide a great deal more explanation,” Luminara said quietly. “However, I think we both know you have already located your counterpart from our universe.”

“I’m curious what makes you think I have any idea what you’re talking about.” Ahsoka had heard Barriss coldly angry before, but not like this. Her voice could have splintered steel.

Luminara gave a grim smile. “If you had not spoken to her, I can only imagine your first question would have been a variation on either who we are, or what we are doing in your home.”

The Sith Barriss’ eyes flashed. “I see you’re as perceptive as ever,” she said, incredibly bitter. “I imagine you’re here to request I return your _property?_ ”

“Hey,” Ahsoka snapped. “Barriss isn’t anyone’s—” Luminara snapped a look at her, and she shut up, but she shot Darth Barriss a filthy glare to compensate.

“We are here in the hope of negotiating her safe release,” said Luminara. “Yes.”

Darth Barriss’ lips twisted in...something that wasn’t a smile. “Into your custody, of course.”

Luminara answered haltingly. “That is...a functional way to phrase the concept.”

The response was a single, mirthless laugh.

“I’m sure. No.”

Silence.

_“What?”_

“Your hearing is remarkable, Ahsoka, you heard me perfectly,” Darth Barriss said. “I said no. I see no reason why I should let you have her.”

Luminara’s voice was incredulous despite her obvious attempts to control herself. “I fail to see how keeping her prisoner could possibly benefit you.”

Darth Barriss smiled thinly. “I see. Is this the part of our conversation where I lay out the basic elements of my plans so that you can criticize me for not providing more detail? Take a blueprint and criticize it for its lack of interior decorating instructions, as if their absence from an overview means they don’t exist?”

“Uh,” said Ahsoka. “What—”

The...other Ahsoka, the Sith one (Sithsoka? Ahsoka mentally threw up her hands and decided that was good enough) shifted to lean against the back of the chair with one arm. “Or you could tell them the whole plan so they can work out a way to stop you,” she suggested helpfully.

Darth Barriss’ lips twitched. “Of course.” Without looking up, she raised a hand to stroke the side of Sithsoka’s face. Almost invisibly—Ahsoka doubted anyone who didn’t know Barriss as well as they did would have noticed the tells—she took a slightly deeper breath than usual and straightened a bit before turning to look Luminara in the eye for the first time.

“I have my own operations to run,” she said, with just enough regal arrogance to be...so, _so_ incredibly wrong.

Her fingers were still caressing Sithsoka’s left lek. Ahsoka tried not to look, but her other self glanced her way with half-hooded eyes and smirked.

“Why should you care about Barriss?” Ahsoka demanded, tearing her eyes away. “She’s not even from this world.”

“Your world is the only thing that interests me about her,” Darth Barriss answered with a careless shrug. She quirked up the corner of her mouth in a cruel smile. “Though perhaps not all that interests Ahsoka.”

Sithsoka made a sound horribly similar to a purr, tilting her head to press Darth Barriss’ hand more firmly into the seam at the base of her lek.

“Oh, come on,” she said, nodding toward Ahsoka. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had that dream.”

Ahsoka was too stunned to react at first, and once she’d processed what she’d just seen she had to bite down on her tongue to stop herself from saying something she and Luminara would regret. They were just trying to bait her, she _knew_ they were just trying to bait her…

She didn’t realize she was shaking with rage until Luminara put a hand on her shoulder. Ahsoka took a breath, trying to draw on the Jedi Master’s calm.

When Luminara spoke, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

 _“What,”_ she said, and Ahsoka had never even imagined that Luminara Unduli was capable of that much cold, contained anger. _“Have you done to her?”_

Darth Barriss looked surprised for a split second; Ahsoka was _certain_ she’d seen it. Almost as soon as it had appeared, however, the expression vanished behind that cold mask of calm. She stopped... _feeling_ Sithsoka and folded her hands in her lap before answering.

“You disappoint me,” she said quietly. “Not everyone’s mind jumps so quickly to whatever creative tortures you’re imagining. Certainly not when the goal is acquiring accurate information. We have been...discussing her options for the future.”

Even through the bloody, hostile fog of the Dark Side surrounding them, Ahsoka could sense Luminara forcing herself to calm down.

“Would you perhaps share what options have presented themselves?” she asked politely.

Darth Barriss considered the question, crossing her legs as she settled back into her chair. “Sit down.” She gestured to the raised cushions arranged in a semicircle facing her.

Cautiously, Ahsoka and Luminara sat.

“I can tell you what I’ve already said to her,” she told them. “Her fate is in her own hands; I am not unreasonable. She’s been remarkably uncooperative. I don’t know whether she fully understands that she is an enemy agent who was found in the heart of my seat of power attempting to impersonate myself. She goes nowhere until I’m satisfied that I know everything she does.”

Luminara gave what could almost be a sigh of relief. “Barriss knows very little; she was involved in the excavation project as an administrative assistant, not a lead researcher. Perhaps as a Council member I can answer some of your questions.”

 _Very little_ wasn’t exactly fair to Barriss, who spoke to everyone on the team and as such probably had a better overall understanding than most of them, but Ahsoka wasn’t about to point that out.

“Excavation project,” Darth Barriss repeated, steepling her fingers together. “You do appear to have a looser tongue than your _apprentice._ ”

Ahsoka wasn’t quite sure what that remark was meant to convey, but Luminara took it as a question. “Our Jedi Order was excavating a millennia old Sith shrine on Coruscant, buried deep beneath the Jedi Temple.”

Sithsoka gave an incredulous snort at the mention of a _Jedi_ Temple, and Ahsoka mostly resisted the urge to glare at her.

“It appears that Barriss unintentionally activated one of the artifacts, which opened a portal and transported her here against her will. As you may have noticed, the portal is currently one-sided.”

Ahsoka hadn’t actually thought of that until this moment, and she tried to keep her unease at the thought that they could all be trapped here anyway from showing.

Darth Barriss’ priorities, shockingly, were elsewhere.

“Jedi _Order,”_ she repeated. “This excavation was a collaborative project. Under whose jurisdiction?”

“I’m sorry?” said Luminara.

“Supervision, authority,” Darth Barriss said impatiently. “I realize you Jedi were... _are_ ...reluctant to acknowledge the reality of hierarchies, but _someone_ must wield more power than the others in that sector.”

As weird as Darth Barriss’ inability to understand how the Jedi worked was, she’d also let slip an important implication there. History wasn’t Ahsoka’s strongest subject, she was the first to admit that, but she hadn’t failed it either. If she wasn’t reading too much into the phrasing, then the Sith here were operating more or less independently; like a feudalistic system, rather than the sort of authoritarian empire that the likes of Darth Revan had forged. That was...probably good for them. She thought.

Luminara paused carefully before answering. “The Jedi are led by a Council, who authorize all of our activities and organize most mission assignments,” she finally said. “The Temple excavation involved a certain level of coordination with Coruscant civilian police forces, but it was performed independent of the Republic Senate, if that information means anything to you.”

The reaction to that last statement was a little more extreme than Ahsoka thought was entirely called for. Sithsoka choked on air; Darth Barriss managed to keep her cool a little better, but the pair of evil doppelgangers still turned to exchange an incredulous look.

“The _Republic?”_ Sithsoka blurted. “There hasn’t been a Republic in, what, four thousand years?”

“The system was unsustainable,” agreed Darth Barriss.

“Perhaps less so than it appeared if circumstances had been different,” Luminara said evenly. “A comparative study of our respective histories would be fascinating, if we had the time.”

And the dark glare from Ahsoka’s counterpart was back.

“Yeah,” she muttered under her breath. “I bet you’ll put _your_ Barriss right on that.”

Darth Barriss had managed to collect herself. “So after four thousand years, if that’s correct, your Order is only now beginning to...excavate? On Coruscant?” For a moment she looked disturbed. “Your Coruscant _is_ a city planet, yes?”

“Yes,” Luminara agreed quickly. Ahsoka shuddered. An evil parallel reality where everyone was a Sith, Barriss had murdered Luminara, and she went around smirking and wearing black wasn’t nearly as disturbing as the idea of Coruscant as...some kind of pastoral farm planet. Some things were just _wrong._

“Where would those excavations be?” Darth Barriss asked. “Relative to your...Temple, if you were to point them out on a city schematic.”

Ahsoka and Luminara exchanged an uncertain look before Luminara answered. For a few minutes all the questions were like that—basic information about how their politics worked, the number of Jedi in the order, the fate of the Sith, but nothing that seemed important and certainly not important enough to keep Barriss prisoner for.

Apparently it wasn’t just her. After a few more questions about political boundaries and historical events, Luminara finally cleared her throat.

“Forgive me,” she said. “Willing as I am to continue discussing Republic trade routes, we’ve deviated somewhat from the original purpose of this discussion. I assure you, if your intent is simply a peaceful gathering of information, it can be accomplished just as easily without a hostage.”

Darth Barriss smiled tightly.

“Very well,” she said. Ahsoka had a split second of soaring hope before she continued, “Let’s discuss my intentions.”

There was a slight pause as she collected herself; Ahsoka and Luminara exchanged wary looks, and then Darth Barriss tapped the armrest of her chair. A display hologram bloomed between them. No surprise there, Ahsoka thought, given the overall design of the place. She could probably control about fifteen hundred different anti-intruder systems with that keypad.

“When I first realized my...other guest...was from a parallel reality, and then you mentioned an excavation under the temple,” Darth Barriss said as she navigated a dense menu, “I really did think for a moment you’d discovered Darth Aphum’s shrine to the Son.”

“Sorry?” said Ahsoka.

Darth Barriss rolled her eyes. “An attempt to create a gateway between time and space, such as the one spoken of in the legends of the planet Lothal,” she said. “It’s been rubble in this world for millennia, of course. Even with the complicated rituals required to activate the portal, the power to alter history and reality at a whim was something no one could resist, and in the fighting the shrine was destroyed before it could be used. If it could have worked at all,” she added dismissively. “No one knows if the Lothal Temple even _existed,_ let alone that it held the powers attributed to it. Only conspiracy theorists today believe it to be anything but a myth.”

Luminara didn’t react to that statement at all. Darth Barriss didn’t seem to notice; Ahsoka, on the other hand, thought she’d gone just a little bit too still.

Once they got back, she made a mental note to ask Master Kenobi what was on Lothal.

“So you don’t think that’s what we found, then?” asked Ahsoka.

For the first time, Darth Barriss’ carefully unruffled demeanor cracked. She gave an undignified snort.

“What you found,” she said, “is a _bad joke.”_ The display screen flickered and then brought up a rotating hologram of the artifact that had brought them here. “The Mirror of Okeli is a curiosity at best. An old Jedi meditation piece—”

 _“Jedi?”_ Ahsoka choked. Her counterpart rolled her eyes. Darth Barriss just narrowed her eyes slightly. It made her look eerily similar to an angry Luminara, and Ahsoka shut up.

“...or so we thought,” she finished after a moment. “As it radiates Light energy when activated. I wonder now if the mirror may not be _another_ unsuccessful attempt to recreate the Lothal gateway...but I digress.”

“Explains that stupid poem,” Sithsoka muttered.

“That it does,” agreed Darth Barriss. She didn’t quite roll her eyes, but her expression suggested she’d like to. “ _See in me not your reflection but the light you could contain._ It’s only slightly less pretentious now that it appears to be literal. As it stands—”

“You can _read_ that?” Ahsoka blurted.

The look Darth Barriss gave her was pretty much the one Ahsoka would have worn if someone expressed surprise that she recognized Aurabesh letters. She’d seen an expression just like it a few weeks ago in one of her youngling classes, actually, when Master Mundi had asked the class if everyone in their clan was toilet-trained.

“I can _read,_ yes,” she said icily.

Luminara came to Ahsoka’s rescue. “The Old Tongue of Malachor has been extinct as a language for several thousand years in our world,” she said calmly. “It is very rare to find a scholar who specializes in it.”

Sithsoka laughed. “Seriously? Even my master taught me Sith script, and Anakin’s not exactly an _academic_.”

Ahsoka nearly jumped. “Wait, what? Anakin’s—but I thought _you_ were—” She pointed awkwardly between the two Sith a few times before turning to Darth Barriss again, unable to keep a pleading note out of her voice. “You’re...not her master?”

There was a concerning choking noise as Sithsoka’s face struggled to figure out what expression it was supposed to be making. She went through a series of interesting contortions before finally forcing the Sith Apprentice mask back into place.

Darth Barriss, meanwhile, just looked deeply amused. Giving a demure little smile, she looked up at Ahsoka from under her long, dark lashes.

“Only when she wants me to be,” she said sweetly.

Ahsoka wasn’t sure what her own expression was, but she doubted it was any more dignified than her counterpart’s had been a minute ago.

“Yes,” said Luminara. “Well. We were discussing the use to which you plan to put this artifact.”

Barriss glanced at her and gave a shallow nod.

“Mmm.” She tapped her armrest a few times, bringing up slowly-rotating holograms of different features of the portal. “Much as it disappointed me, the Mirror of Okeli is a powerful artifact now that we know what it does. Still…” Her eyes slid slightly out of focus. For a moment, Ahsoka thought she saw traces of yellow. “If you truly had opened the Gate of the Son...with that kind of power…”

There was a predatory look in Sithsoka’s eyes that Ahsoka didn’t like; they were locked on Darth Barriss’ face like a jungle cat waiting to pounce.

“It would have made you a god,” Sithsoka rasped. Darth Barriss’ eyes drifted closed, and a hard, fierce note entered her voice. “No one would care that you ever had a master. No one would even remember her name.”

Ahsoka felt Darth Barriss’ soaring, vicious satisfaction at that thought in the Force. Judging by the pain on Luminara’s face, she’d felt it too.

“And if I were a god,” murmured Darth Barriss, lips tugging up on one side, “Where would you be?”

Sithsoka smirked and moved forward, casually slinging one leg over an armrest. Her primary saber was held in her right hand, resting on the back of the chair, a silent warning to the guests not to try anything; her free hand ran roughly through Barriss’ hair. Luminara twitched.

“Where do you think?” Ahsoka tried not to cringe at the lust in her own voice, or the way her doppleganger gripped her...lover...by the hair to pull her head back. “Worshipping you on my knees.”

Darth Barriss gave a breathless laugh. “Oh, I’ll believe that when I see—”

Sithsoka cut her off with what could very generously be called a kiss. If Ahsoka were being less generous, it looked like she was trying to swallow her tongue.

After a moment that went on _way_ too long for two people who were nowhere near being alone, Luminara cleared her throat pointedly.

Ahsoka was expecting some irritation, more of the taunting smugness her counterpart had been throwing at her since they arrived. She wasn’t prepared for Barriss’ reaction to the polite reminder that she had an audience.

Vicious, tangible _hatred_ hit them like a rogue wave in the Force. Ahsoka’s vision blurred slightly; as she blinked and tried to clear the taste of spite from her tongue, Darth Barriss wound a hand into her counterpart’s collar and pulled her closer. A slightly dazed Ahsoka was a little surprised that was possible.

She had no idea what point this version of Barriss was trying to make, but she was clearly trying to prove _something._ For a few seconds it looked like they just weren’t going to stop; but Darth Barriss finally wrenched herself free for air. Ahsoka’s stomach clenched at the bloodshot gold threatening at the edges of her eyes.

“Was that _entirely_ necessary?” asked Luminara, exasperation leaking into her voice.

Hate flared cold in the Force again as Darth Barriss’ eyes narrowed.

 _“You,”_ she snapped, “are no longer in any position to dictate propriety or _anything_ else to me.”

Sithsoka’s grip on her lightsabers shifted; Ahsoka tensed and sat forward slightly, flicking a glance between the two Sith. Darth Barriss’ fingers were also brushing dangerously close to her saber hilts. Ahsoka was good, but Luminara was even more out of practice in real duelling than she was and they were facing hardened killers…

She could _feel_ the snap of an igniting lightsaber in the air, hanging between them, and her instincts _screamed_ at her to break first before the tension reached critical mass. But she’d promised to follow Luminara’s lead, and Luminara was sitting very still and maintaining careful eye contact with someone who was not Barriss.

“That’s true,” she said, very carefully, after a moment. “I have _never_ been in a position to dictate to you, in fact. We have only just met.”

“Can…” Ahsoka couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you _please_ just tell us what you want with Barriss?”

For a long moment, Darth Barriss kept her glare on Luminara; then, finally, she looked away and answered Ahsoka’s question.

“With her, personally? Nothing.” Her voice was still too sharp, but she certainly didn’t seem to hate Ahsoka nearly as much as Luminara. Ahsoka was trying very hard not to think too much about the very obvious reasons for that. “But I have a great deal of interest in what she might be able to gain me.”

“Uh,” said Ahsoka after a second, when she realized Luminara was...probably wisely...not going to jump in. “What...do you think that is? Exactly?”

“You saw my collection of artifacts,” Darth Barriss said, businesslike. “I have something of an interest in ancient sources of power and knowledge. And I suspect that _your_ universe contains many items that, here, are either controlled by my rivals or long since destroyed.”

Oh, this was bad.

Luminara sighed, and Ahsoka tried to hide her relief. This was so, so far above her pay grade.

“You propose a ransom,” she said evenly.

“It seems a better way to proceed than taking them by force,” Darth Barriss said, the icy tone returning to her voice. “Low as my opinion of the Jedi may be, I’d prefer to explore other options before entering the heart of their fortress on my own.”

“Yeah,” said Ahsoka. “That wouldn’t end well for you.”

Sithsoka bared her teeth in something a little too eager to be a smile. “So _you_ think. How much do you like whoever’s guarding that portal?”

“Ahsoka, please,” Darth Barriss sighed, and they both reflexively stopped talking.

Luminara regarded the woman who looked so much like the Barriss they both knew, and Ahsoka couldn’t quite read her expression.

“You believe your counterpart’s life means enough to the Council that they will allow a Sith unfettered access to items of immense power from our world?” Her expression never changed, but her voice was pained. “I’m afraid you do not understand the Jedi as well as you think.”

“Typical,” Sithsoka muttered.

Darth Barriss’ eyes narrowed slightly. “A one-time exchange, perhaps,” she said. “As...a gesture of good faith. To begin with.”

Luminara’s eyebrows lifted. “You anticipate an ongoing relationship? I...fear that may also be overly optimistic.”

The Force shifted around them, chill and dark, as Darth Barriss spoke. “Do _not_ underestimate me. My empire was built on power, and on the power of information.” A twisted, bitter smile. “You know the value of _that_ well enough. Your Council must have enemies; a mutually beneficial arrangement, should I offer one, would not be something to discard lightly.”

Ahsoka couldn’t help feeling like they’d gotten a little off-subject. “So, while we’re negotiating hostage exchanges,” she said. “It’d be great to know that Barriss is, you know. _Alive.”_

Sithsoka cast a disgusted look in her direction. “I can sense _her_ from half a planet away. Don’t you know yours at all?”

“Hey!”

Luminara held up a hand. “We are not accustomed to sensing anything with the Dark Side this strong around us. In time, perhaps; at the moment, I must agree. We are more than willing to negotiate the terms of Barriss’ release, but Ahsoka is correct. I really must insist on seeing her, before we go any further.”

 _“Ahsoka_ may see her,” Darth Barriss snapped. _“You_ may not.”

Luminara pressed her lips together for a moment, and then sighed. “Very well.”

* * *

Luminara was beginning to wonder if it might have been a better idea to let Ahsoka go through the portal alone. Or at the very least, found another Master or Knight willing to accompany her. All of the negotiating skill in the galaxy couldn’t help you if your adversary was reacting...irrationally towards your presence.

In fairness to herself, Luminara _did_ have to acknowledge that there was truly no way she could ever have predicted this.

_“Barriss? It’s me.”_

Oh, Ahsoka.

The young Knight was almost certainly under the impression that she was keeping her voice down. Their...hostess...had waved Ahsoka off toward a small viewscreen halfway down the long audience chamber with a curt reminder that everything on the line would be recorded, but an instinctive desire for privacy was still natural.

Unfortunately, she could not have chosen a worse opening line. Luminara winced preemptively and was almost grateful she couldn’t hear Barriss’ response.

_“Wait, no, I’m sorry! I mean, it’s the real me. Jedi Ahsoka. We’re here to rescue you! What? No, it’s not a trick. Remember that time Aayla took us all out to celebrate the end of the war, and you got your drink mixed up with a Wookiee’s, and—”_

Luminara still couldn’t quite make out Barriss’s response to that, but it was loud and indignant enough for her to get the spirit of it. _What are you DOING here?!_

 _“Well don’t yell at_ me, _it was Luminara’s idea—yeah, she’s here—kriff, fine, yes,_ Master _Luminara, she’s here too—listen.”_ Her voice dropped again, nearly inaudible. _“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”_ A pause. _“What do you mean, ‘not badly’?!”_

Barriss’ response to that was too quiet to hear, but Ahsoka’s shoulders slowly loosened for the first time, and Luminara gave a soft sigh of relief.

“You know,” the Sith commented, and Luminara turned her head back towards her. “It’s not like you to get distracted from the threat in the room. But I suppose you never saw me as a threat, did you?”

Luminara closed her eyes, a thousand responses from cutting to compassionate warring in the back of her mind.

“I imagine,” she said finally, “that a woman with a striking resemblance to myself paid for that mistake.”

The yellow-eyed apprentice clenched a fist on the pommel of her lightsaber and snarled, “She didn’t pay _enough_.”

Luminara looked quietly at the Sith. She knew, not intimately perhaps but as well as any Force-user, how their order operated.

“No,” she agreed. “I must assume she did not.”

There was a flare of cold indignation in the Sith’s eyes, and then she seemed to swallow whatever retort was on her tongue and center herself. “I believe we still have business to discuss, _Master Jedi?”_

“Indeed.” Luminara straightened her sleeves for something to do; a tell, but under the circumstances, she allowed herself that much. “I wish to avoid any bloodshed...however improbable that may seem to you. And I am afraid that, realistically, your negotiating position is not so strong here as you seem to believe.”

The Sith’s eyes narrowed. _“Naturally.”_ There was enough cold, bitter fury in her voice to give Luminara pause and remind her she needed to word her arguments _carefully._ This woman was not her former apprentice and would not react well to the tone of a teacher. Or rather, she _was_ Luminara’s former apprentice, if Luminara’s deductions bore out—and that made any hint of condescension all the more deadly.

Luminara almost raised her hands in surrender, then thought better of it and carefully folded them in front of her instead.

“Forgive me,” she said quietly. “I am more familiar with the policies of the Order, and this is not the first time a young Jedi has been kidnapped. As a representative of a foreign government, I can inform you of the actions the Council will take in these circumstances.”

The Sith’s expression was hard as marble; but after a moment, she jerked her chin. “Get on with it then.”

Luminara inclined her head.

“They will not negotiate,” she began.

Ahsoka’s dark counterpart gave a hard laugh. _“They?”_

Luminara’s shoulders tightened.

“...We. Will not negotiate,” she corrected. She should have known better; this was not an audience alien to manipulative wordplay, nor one inclined to think of her as some form of third party when she had already identified herself as a Council member. “Not on these terms, not for the release of a single young Knight. If you attempt to force cooperation through coercion, the Council will send a strike force to extract her.”

The Sith’s eyebrows twitched in an almost offended ghost of a glare. “What _exactly,”_ she asked, unable to keep a peeved edge from her voice, “do you imagine would be my first course of action if you were that foolish?”

“To kill the hostage.” Luminara was a Jedi; she could keep her voice impassive. She could not ignore the pang the words caused, as Ahsoka murmured comfort into a viewscreen behind her. “I do not consider that an acceptable outcome. Nor do I imagine you wish to see a Council task force bypassing your defenses.”

A dismissive snort from the Sith—one Luminara would have smiled at under any other circumstances, as it was so much more Ahsoka’s affectation than Barriss’. “Sixty percent of my defenses are internal. You have no concept of what your _task force_ would be facing.”

“That may be so,” Luminara said. “It is entirely possible that everyone involved in the operation would die. However, the battle would cause extensive damage to your fortress that I am sure you do not wish, and the destruction of a large number of your artifacts in the crossfire. And inevitably, no matter what the outcome of that battle, one side or another of the portal would be destroyed, and the opportunity you saw in our universe will be lost to you.”

For a long moment, the Sith considered this. Skeptically, perhaps; but Luminara could sense the frustration in the Force as she accepted the truth of the statement.

“I could kill the three of you now,” she pointed out. “Seal the portal on this side and write this encounter off as a strange workday.”

“And what assurance do you have that destroying _your_ side of the portal would seal off travel in _both_ directions? It is entirely possible that in doing so you would merely allow attack from our universe while eliminating the possibility of counterattack.”

The Sith raised an eyebrow. “The thought had occurred to me.”

Her inflection was familiar enough to twist Luminara’s heart.

“So you see,” she said as Ahsoka quietly rejoined them. “It was an inspired thought; but realistically the use of a hostage as leverage will gain you nothing. All you stand to gain is the petty satisfaction of refusing to release your own counterpart.”

There was a quiet clicking for several long moments as the Sith tapped a finger against her armrest.

“Let us say for the moment that you’re right,” she said finally. “I stand to gain nothing in particular from holding her prisoner any longer. I fail to see how I gain anything by allowing _you_ to have her, either.”

“An act of mercy, however small, may indicate to the Council that your offer is worth considering in the future. If not, you lose nothing of value to you.”

Ahsoka’s counterpart visibly restrained herself from taking a step forward. _“Nothing of value?!”_

The Sith held up a hand, and the other Ahsoka fell silent, still glaring fury at Luminara. The Sith, meanwhile, gave her a long, silent look before speaking again.

“So then, it seems in any reality, you think me an utter fool,” she said, icily. “Your Jedi cannot be so different from the Jedi Order in our history that they will coordinate with a Sith in good faith for nothing but mutual benefit. Nevertheless, I am not unreasonable. Cruelty for the sake of it is a hallmark of weakness. I have no intention of holding her forever.” She glanced at her...lover. “Mercy, then.”

Coldly expressionless, Ahsoka’s counterpart ignited her lightsaber.

 _“Whoa!”_ Ahsoka scrambled to her feet, snapping both sabers live and dropping into a defensive crouch. “What are you _doing?!”_

Her double sneered, baring sharpened fangs. “I don’t know how _you_ got on _her_ side, but you’re crazy or stupid if you think I won’t give any version of Barriss a quick death before I let Unduli get near her again.”

“I don’t know what happened over here,” Ahsoka growled, “but Master Luminara would _never_ hurt Barriss—”

“Oh if you’re deluded enough to believe that, then maybe you need a mercy kill too,” her counterpart growled right back.

Both Ahsokas took a step forward, and Luminara saw disaster was imminent. _“Ahsoka!”_

Everyone froze, and it took them all a long, strange moment to realize that Luminara and the Sith had shouted it in near-unison.

Watching the Sith’s expression as she tried to figure out what emotion to show, Luminara realized with a sinking feeling that there was no way out of this. This had never been a hostage negotiation, there had never been a chance of securing the release of a prisoner. If it were someone else, perhaps—Master Windu, Master Fisto with his easygoing nature to contrast the icy paranoia of Sith feudalism, maybe even Obi-Wan whose negotiations tended to end in swordplay regardless of the situation—but this woman would never release anyone into Luminara’s custody.

She wanted so badly to pretend she didn’t know why.

The Force was still alien and hostile here, swirling with nothing but cruelty and anger and spite; but there was _pain_ there, too, dark and sharp like blood on steel. This Sith, this version of Barriss, was not capable of what Luminara asked. No more capable than any wounded creature of not striking out to defend what was hers.

The only reason the Sith had allowed them an audience instead of killing them outright, Luminara realized, was out of some deep emotional need to prove her strength in the face of the woman who had made her powerless. A need for closure with the abuser she had already murdered years before Luminara arrived here.

She had spoken the truth, to Ahsoka. This had nothing to do with her prisoner at all.

The Sith’s eyes flicked between the two Togruta. “I make this offer once,” she said. “And only once. I will give you instructions to activate the portal on this side. Get out.”

“Not without Barriss,” Ahsoka said immediately. Her counterpart’s grip shifted almost imperceptibly on her saber hilts.

Luminara cleared her throat, as quietly as she could manage.

_“What.”_

“You are determined then, never to release her into my care.” The other Ahsoka hissed at her choice of words; Luminara ignored her. “As you wish. You knew this much already; there is nothing you can gain here but personal satisfaction, and you have the power to claim it.”

Barriss’ expression was calculating, suspicious. “Are you going somewhere with this, or merely admitting defeat?”  
  
“Uh,” Ahsoka broke in. “Master?”

The solution was so simple, so obvious, Luminara didn’t know how she hadn’t thought of it sooner. Maybe because she hadn’t wanted to admit to herself that this Sith really _was_ Barriss after all; an angry, injured, broken version of her. And that every wound on her soul was left there by the hand of a Luminara who had failed her utterly.

Luminara had sworn years ago to do all that she could to aid her apprentice. Perhaps, she could aid two of them at once.

Luminara took a deep breath. “The vengeance you seek is not against Barriss. Release her into Ahsoka’s care, and take me in her place.”

The Force rippled with shocked silence. Ahsoka, true to form, recovered first.

“Are you—” she choked, cut herself off. “They’re _Sith,_ they’ll—Master, you _can’t.”_

“Ahsoka.” Luminara had never needed to raise her voice to get immediate silence from padawans; she was grateful now that the effect hadn’t worn off. “There were conditions on your accompanying me here.”

Even through the haze of the Dark Side, Ahsoka’s dismay rang in the Force. “Barriss wouldn’t want you to—”

“Barriss will know nothing of it until you are both safely returned. You are to instruct the Council that my final order to you was to see our side of the portal destroyed.” And that, indeed, was a cruelty; but Luminara was too familiar with Barriss’ guilt complex, her tendency toward martyrdom. Besides; the greater cruelty would be forcing her to agree to this. This way, her onetime apprentice would carry no responsibility.

Only Ahsoka. If Luminara were only a little wiser, she would have sent the poor girl out of the room before making the offer. But it was too late for that now.

The Sith mirror of Barriss slowly moved a hand to the hilt of her primary lightsaber. “This is a trick,” she said slowly. “You gain nothing by it.”

 _I gain your safety,_ Luminara thought sadly. It was not an explanation this Barriss would be willing to accept.

“As you will not hear the truth,” she said, trying to keep pity from her voice, “Consider this. I gain the ability to send a warning back to my own reality, and a chance to seal the breach and prevent the only Knight I ever trained from returning to die. In the event the portals require an intact counterpart to function, I have also prevented your invading my world. Does that suffice as an explanation?”

Barriss stared at her, incredulous. “You realize that _you_ would die, yes? And yet you claim you will hand your life over to me in exchange for...your _apprentice?”_

“I understand this. I trust you have no objection to releasing your counterpart into _Ahsoka’s_ guardianship?”

The other Ahsoka stood down slightly, stepping back and slowly moving her sabers from a guard stance to a more relaxed ready position. She still seemed as dubious about this whole idea as Barriss, and viewed her Jedi double with disdain as she muttered something venomous about the company she kept.

Barriss, eventually, admitted that she was willing to do that much. “I expect you to surrender your weapon to the security droid,” she said warily. “ _Now._ And I won’t be informing any of you how to open the portal until _they_ are in front of it and _you_ are already secured.”

Luminara inclined her head. “Of course. I only ask that you conceal the nature of the arrangement from our Barriss, as well. It will make this...easier, for all involved.”

For a moment she thought that small request would still be too much; Barriss, however, simply said, “We’ll see.”

* * *

“Barriss!”

Barriss’ head snapped up as the door opened, bright light searing her eyes. Part of her was still convinced this was a trick; the presence of _her_ Ahsoka was a little too convenient and exactly the kind of cruel trick she could imagine the Sith version taking pleasure in.

But the Sith doppelganger entered at the same time, hanging back near the main door. Even without her presence, even unable to sense her through the black haze of the Dark Side...there was no mistaking the real Ahsoka, not for long. Barriss could never confuse her for anything but herself.

Ahsoka hovered on the other side of the particle shield, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her double snorted and fiddled with a control panel down the corridor; after a moment, the humming and the eerie red glow faded, and Barriss jumped forward and out of the cell.

The Sith Ahsoka snorted. “What, no reunion kiss?”

Ahsoka stiffened, glaring at her counterpart and moving out of the hug she’d instinctively reached for. Barriss’ grip tightened reflexively. She could barely bring herself to care about the smug, knowing look being cast their way. She had no idea what Ahsoka was doing here or how she’d gained access to the portal, but Barriss had been alone in a cell with no light, surrounded by the pulsing coldness of the Dark, for what had to be the better part of a day by now; and Ahsoka was the one thing in her world that had always been solid and incorruptible.

After a moment, Ahsoka pulled her close as well.

“We were so worried,” she whispered. Barriss, choking out a laugh, had to ask how they thought _she’d_ felt.

“How…?”

“Luminara…” Ahsoka bit her lip, hesitating. “Talked to, um...you. She worked something out. She’s—you—Darth Barriss is letting us go.”

Barriss made a very interesting choking sound in her throat; Ahsoka’s Sith counterpart just laughed.

 _“Darth Barriss,”_ Barriss repeated, raising an eyebrow.   
  
“Look, I needed _some_ way to keep you two separate in my head. Shut up.” She glared at her counterpart, who was still laughing, and then collected herself. “They’re going to let us go back through the portal, and then it’ll be sealed at both ends. We all decided it’d be best to say today was a _really_ weird day and to pretend it never happened.”

“I for one would certainly like to forget this experience,” Barriss said flatly. “Where is Master Luminara?”

Ahsoka glanced away for a split second, then back to Barriss. “Already went through, to tell the Council what’s up. We’re meeting her on the other side.”

That was...eminently practical, for a number of reasons. Certainly Master Luminara’s explanation would be calmer, more thorough, and more convincing than Ahsoka’s, and it made sense to get the Council member back to safety first. Barriss suspected Ahsoka was far more likely to be treated with...some kind of favor, by her Sith counterpart.

Part of her wished badly that she could have spoken to her former mentor as soon as possible, nonetheless. It was selfish, but she desperately needed Luminara’s calm.

No matter. Barriss would make sure to speak to her on the other side. There could be no objection to that; she owed her great thanks.

In the meantime, she hugged Ahsoka one more time and whispered, _“Thank you._ I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come.”

“Probably stayed here for the rest of your life,” the Sith Ahsoka added, cheerfully unhelpful. “You guys done? We kind of have plans for tonight.”

“We don’t want to know,” Barriss said immediately.

“Let’s just go,” Ahsoka agreed, casting an uncomfortable look at her double. To Barriss’ considerable relief, the Sith apprentice just rolled her eyes and mockingly bowed them out of the holding cells, sealing the blast doors with a pneumatic hiss behind them.

They didn’t speak much more as the dark mockery of Ahsoka led them to a turbolift, down a maze of corridors, up one flight of stairs and down three more, then pointed them into the unassuming lift that would lead back to the warehouse section of the tower.

The other Ahsoka stood next to the controls idly polishing her lightsaber and didn’t say a word. Barriss edged around to place her Ahsoka between them anyway.

She could admit this much of her Sith self; Barriss Offees were apparently universally _organized_ , if nothing else. It was the work of minutes to find the portal inside the huge warehouse—her own voice on the intercom called it a _mirror_ , an odd term for a slab of non-reflective stone—and it was almost embarrassingly easy to activate it.

Barriss was going to have to learn to read the Old Tongue. It was a matter of pride, now.

From this side, the maelstrom was a pleasant swirl of deep blue and silver, glinting with emerald. It was so familiar it _ached_ , being in the presence of something that radiated the Light so strongly. In the same way their own version of the portal had whispered promises of dark power, this one murmured of peace and compassion. She barely resisted the urge to reach out to it.

Ahsoka’s counterpart sighed. “Alright, go ahead and get out of here so I can turn this thing off. It’s giving me a headache.”

“Gladly,” Barriss said, and she and Ahsoka stepped towards the swirl of light.

“Oh, hey,” the SIth doppelganger called out, just as they were on the precipice. They looked back. Her yellow eyes flicked between the two of them, and after a moment she grinned. “Word of advice for myself? Pull her hair. She’ll forget her own name.”

Barriss grabbed Ahsoka’s hand and dragged them both through.

* * *

Luminara couldn’t help but relax, watching as Barriss and Ahsoka vanished from the security hologram. She had accomplished her mission, and fulfilled her own duty to Barriss.

The one Barriss who remained in this universe was standing next to her, staring intently at the monitor. She tapped on her comlink. “They’re through?”

 _“Yeah,”_ Ahsoka replied, her voice issuing simultaneously from the holo and from the comlink. _“That was almost insultingly easy.”_

Luminara closed her eyes and steadied herself for a moment, before turning to face her captor. “Well then,” she said, “shall we get on with it?”

Barriss looked...confused. “I...don’t understand. You didn’t try anything. _They_ didn’t try anything. What...what was your _plan?”_

This Barriss was even less likely to appreciate pity than her own; but Luminara couldn’t quite keep it from her voice or her eyes. And anyway, it was unlikely to make much of a difference. The least she could offer the young woman was honesty.

“Barriss,” she said softly. “What did she _do_ to you?”

Barriss clenched her fists and looked away, and for a moment Luminara thought she would refuse to answer. But then, she began speaking. “You understand the relationship between a Sith master and apprentice, yes? The master is expected to teach, and in return the apprentice owes them their service. And when the student has surpassed the master, they are expected to kill them and take their place, so that each generation grows stronger.”

Luminara nodded. “That is how the Sith in my world operate as well, yes.”

Barriss stayed quiet for another moment, looking at the monitor with a distant expression.“She _never_ planned on me killing her,” she hissed. “She didn’t _want_ an apprentice. I hardly expected to be _coddled_ by her, that would only have made me weak, but she never fulfilled her end _._ She wanted a permanent assistant. A _slave._ Someone skilled, but easily cowed, too terrified to even _think_ of defying her. She wanted me to be _weak.”_ When she looked back at Luminara, her eyes were bloodshot yellow. “What did she _do_ to me? Let me put it to you this way.” Angrily, she tugged her right glove off and held her hand up, showing that the last three fingers on it were prosthetic replacements. “This is the price I paid to be rid of her. And I would have gladly paid _so much more._ ”

Wanting nothing more than to reach out to her, Luminara quieted her emotions and rode out the storm.

“I am sorry to hear it,” she said. “Every master, regardless of creed, bears a responsibility to their apprentice. You deserved better.”

“I _claimed_ better.” Barriss ran fingers over the seam of the implants, then irritably tugged her glove back on. “She underestimated me. She’d molded me from childhood, after all; she grew complacent in her hold on me, while I never stopped striving to learn more and grow my own skills. It was convenient for her to believe me nothing but a pleasant distraction for Ahsoka, without considering…” As if just now realizing she’d spoken, she cut herself off sharply. “I challenged her. I won. _Deserving_ had nothing to do with it. I have what I reached out to take.”

Luminara smiled. It was sad, small, that was all she could offer; but it was genuine, at that.

“You surpassed her,” she pointed out. “I will not pretend to agree with the Sith; but by your own traditions you earned what you have. Even by our own...no one can claim you did anything but rise above your circumstances.”

“...No.” Barriss seemed, if not calm, then at least steadier. “No, they couldn’t. I’ve improved the organization of the Tower’s bureaucracy, invested many of the operation’s resources more practically, for better returns. The...inevitable...open alliance with Skywalker’s empire increased my military options exponentially.” A vaguely disdainful look crossed her face. “The slave trade in this part of Coruscant _still_ hasn’t recovered from my abolishing the practice within my domain. And the costs of providing a standard of living to my staff that does credit to my reputation are far more efficient than my _predecessor’s_ security and discipline expenses, to say nothing of any other considerations.”

For a moment it seemed she would continue; but after a moment she was still standing in tense silence, and Luminara spoke.

“Any reasonable teacher,” she said quietly, “could be nothing but proud of those accomplishments.”

A muscle jumped in Barriss’ jaw.

“I wouldn’t know.”

Luminara bowed her head in acknowledgement.

A hint of agitation was threatening again at the edge of that cold Sith mask, abandoned briefly in Barriss’ rage. “It won’t work, what you’re doing,” she said. “And don’t ask _what._ I’m not your apprentice, I never was. You’re playing for time and it won’t work.”

“To be entirely truthful, Barriss, I would sooner get this over with.” Luminara managed a wry smile at that, which was not returned. “But after what you suffered, I have no right to judge you for wanting revenge.”

“You’re a very poor Jedi,” Barriss snapped.

“I never said I believed it would bring you the peace you seek. I said I would not judge you.”

Whatever Barriss intended to say to that, she was interrupted by the quiet hiss of the door.

The Ahsoka that remained here stepped in and looked between Barriss and Luminara. “So, uh...what are we doing with her, then?” She had a tone that seemed to suggest a tooka that had somehow caught the speeder it was chasing, and had no idea what to do now.

Barriss stared unseeing at Luminara, fingers flexing. For a moment white-hot lightning flickered to life in her palms, then died. She closed her eyes and sighed.

“Get out.”

Luminara blinked at her. “Pardon?”

“I don’t care about you. I don’t _care,”_ Barriss hissed. “Luminara Unduli is _dead_ , at my hand. I can hardly take revenge on a woman I only met today. Go back to your universe and _never return._ I never want to see a face like yours again.”

“Hey. Hey.” Luminara’s heart did something complicated at the soft note of concern in... _Ahsoka’s_...voice. It was just slightly too familiar, the way she reached out, the brush of orange fingers at Barriss’ elbow. “You okay…?”

 _“Not now,_ Ahsoka.”

Whatever their differences, Luminara knew her apprentice. Recognizing how very close Barriss was to the edge, she decided a tactical retreat was in order before the young woman lost her grip entirely. “As you wish, Barriss,” she said with a bow slightly lower than she would normally give.

Wordlessly, Barriss gestured the security droid to return Luminara’s lightsaber, and once she had it Luminara moved to the door as unobtrusively as possible.

* * *

_“You lied to me!”_

Ahsoka cringed away from her, and Barriss was too furious to feel guilty over it.

“Barriss, I’m sorry! She gave me an order—”

Barriss’ laughter was too high, too sharp, too unstable. “You—you decided to start obeying orders _now?!_ Get _away_ from me!”

Ahsoka held her hands up in a desperate, appeasing gesture that Barriss had no interest in. The gall—she believed that this had been Master Unduli’s idea, certainly, but Ahsoka should have known better—she’d wondered why her friend wouldn’t meet her eyes but she assumed it had just been embarrassment in the presence of their counterparts—she’d _trusted_ —

She spun on her heel, fully intending to shove her way back through the portal and fix this. If anyone could convince her to see reason it was _herself_ , surely. She could see the angry blood-red swirl less than a hundred yards away; it hadn’t taken long for the rush of questions and remonstrations to make it clear that they had not been preceded by a Council member, and Barriss had refused to move further until she understood why.

To think. Her first assumption had been that something had gone terribly wrong, perhaps there were more endpoints of the portal than originally thought; she’d wanted a chance to study it more, figure out where Master Luminara had gone to. But the guilt written on every inch of Ahsoka’s face…

“She was going to kill you!”

“By your own admission she intends to do far worse to Master Luminara,” Barriss snapped. “How _could_ you?”

“She made me promise not to tell you until we were safe, I didn’t _want_ to—”

“You have never done anything you didn’t want to do! You let your attachments get the better of you! You placed my safety over hers, Ahsoka, the least you owe her is to admit it!”

“Hey, Luminara did the exact same thing!”

Barriss brushed her off. “Master Drallig, please, I can still—”

Master Drallig looked pained; as, Barriss realized, did most of the Jedi crowded around the portal. The bright white floodlights covering every inch of the surrounding area were already giving her a headache. Her sense of the Force was returning, but that only made it worse; she could feel the agitation of the Coruscant police, Ahsoka’s agony, and the mingled concern, discomfort, and judgement from the assembled crowd at her own inability to control her emotions.

“The Council’s orders are clear,” Master Drallig informed her, perhaps more firmly than if she had kept her composure. She tried not to resent that. _“No one_ is to go through that portal. Master Unduli broke with that command already, and we cannot risk it happening again.”

Barriss blinked. _Broke with a Council command?_ Ahsoka would have, certainly, and most of her former master’s friends wouldn’t have hesitated, but Luminara?

Ahsoka spoke up, audibly miserable. “It wasn’t _Barriss’_ fault, Master. The portal’s easy to activate by mistake, she didn’t mean to.”

Master Drallig inclined his head to her. “We know that, Knight Tano. Nor does the Council blame you for following Master Unduli; you had no reason to suspect that her orders were anything but lawful.

After an awkward moment, Ahsoka coughed.

“Uh,” she said. “Right. Definitely not.”

Barriss wanted to scream. She was running scenarios in her head to see if she could move fast enough to get past Master Drallig and the guards and get through the portal when it suddenly _rippled._

A murmur of alarm rose in the crowd. Coruscant police waved civilians back; the remnants of the GAR who had been called up to provide extra security around the site levelled weapons at the portal. There were low hums and the smell of ozone in the cavern as dozens of lightsabers snapped to life.

One moment the portal was a pulsing maelstrom; and then, with no further fanfare, a single figure stood in the center of the chamber and the Mirror of Okeli was a flat, inert slab of black rock.

Luminara Unduli brushed herself down, nodded to the nearest GAR captain, and scanned the crowd until she found the three of them.

“Master Drallig,” she said with a dip of her head as she approached. “My apologies for all of the drama, but you all may shut off your lightsabers now. I can assure you there is no one coming through behind me.”

“Master,” Barriss blurted. “I—what—how—?”

All of a sudden, in the searing light with the eyes of a large portion of the Order upon her, Barriss’ anger felt childish. She was a Knight, she was meant to be better than this. She should never have lost her temper in a fit of grief—should never have lost her temper at all, but certainly not because she was unable to _let go_. Because she didn’t trust a Council member’s judgement, or respect her decisions.

“I...I’m sorry, Master. I…” She took a deep breath and tried to stand up straighter. “I should have…”

“Oh, Barriss,” her master said softly.

Barriss wasn’t certain exactly what happened; only that one moment there was a gentle hand on her cheek, and the next Luminara had guided her into a hug and she was clutching the back of her mentor’s robes and didn’t know if she would be able to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a reference to the RWBY soundtrack piece of the same name...appropriately alternately titled Mirror Mirror Part III.


End file.
